


Itchy Wings Make For Happy Angels

by comets_nix



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Possible nightangel, after x men apocalypse, itchy wings, short and old, warrens recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9779006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comets_nix/pseuds/comets_nix
Summary: New feathers are quite itchy- and there's nothing a bird loves more than scratching fingers to massage those new quills. So when Warrens wings are growing back, and coated in baby feathers and growing vane, it's no wonder just how damn ANNOYING they are.The problem is- Warren doesn't anyone's hands itching his wings.





	

Lets say that Warren is pulled from that god awful crash site, taken to the mansion unconscious, and put in the medical branch of the school to heal.  
And let’s also say that his metal wings perhaps did not survive, and were completely stripped from his back; leaving two giant lacerations for Hank to patch up and heal.  
So now, a few days later after poor Warren wakes up and realizes his beloved God is gone and he is alone once more, let’s say that his wings start to poke through and grow. Hank is surprised, the team is shocked and happy, and Warren just rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, nothing new guys. Been there done that.’  
But what Warren forgot is that itchy, dry, needy, almost whiny feeling his wings get and torment him with when any new feathers come back in.  
One or two or three feathers is no big deal; they come in fast and have minimal itching and no irritated skin.  
But when he’s growing a whole new wing?  
God, it takes everything in poor Warren not to claw his own skin off. While the team giggles and laughs at the sight of Warren’s weird, chicken like wings, he just glares and ignores them. Locked up in the hospital room in isolation until he is ready to enter society again.  
But now Warren’s feathers are coming in, and all hell breaks lose for him.  
He wakes up in the middle of the night to cringe worthy itches that make his muscles tighten up when he relieves them. Now every few seconds he’s twitching at the feelings ruining up his wings, digging his nails into the pink new skin.  
And it’s so EMBARRASSING.  
The X Men visit Warren about every other day, making sure he hasn’t murdered Hank. And after just a few days, Warren has gotten it under control enough to hide it from them. He always has been able to keep it a secret in the cage fights and on the streets.  
But eventually, it gets so bad he can’t help but dig into a few itches while someone is around. And while everyone knows feathers that are growing in, just look flat out UGLY, it’s even more embarrassing.  
He starts off hiding hiding his wings completely, keeping those ugly quills that look like strange needles sticking out of his skin totally hidden. Tucked behind his back and away from unwanted visitors. And then the small vane grow in, making it more recognizable and slightly less weird. The primaries grow a little faster, while the secondaries take the longest.  
Which leaves Warren, just a week later, with long, half full primaries that hang low and awkwardly, and little coverts that are white fluffy specks among the hideous quills. Right now they are almost wings. Big and folded, but still semi-bare.  
In simple term:  
They’re still ugly.  
No one’s allowed to see them.  
Which makes the fact that this is the time when they are so damn ITCHY and needy a little bit difficult to deal with.  
It’s a night when the team has invited Warren along for movie night since he was released from bed rest and officially a member of the school. He agrees, feeling rather lonely and tired of himself, and joins them that night in the living room for a movie marathon.  
He made sure to itch his stupid growing wings all day, hoping to satisfy them enough and rub his skin so raw he wouldn’t have to think twice about them tonight. There is no hiding them now, they are too big and everyone will just have to put up with the temporary uglyness.  
So as Warren is sitting on the couch, plastered between Ororo and Kurt, and the itching starts up TWICE as bad, he panics.  
God, it burns and makes him want to jump up and run his body all over the gross rug on the floor. But he sits still, holding his ground and flexing the muscles to try to dull it.  
But it doesn’t go away, and the itching of feathers pushing through skin becomes too much for Warren.  
'Fuck it,’ he thinks, and sits forward a little to dig his nails into where his radius is and the feathers are growing slow. He digs away, itching hard and frowning at himself when he’s done.  
So it’s fine now. Good. No one noticed, it’s fine. Only- it’s back again. As soon as Warren’s hand leaves his wing.  
He now begins to realize his plan today of 'itch itch away and be fine tonight’ has utterly failed; only succeeding in firing his wings up even more.  
They NEED fingers digging at them. They NEED that relief. Right now, they say.  
'Move the quills,’ they cry to Warren. 'Dig through the feathers, itch the skin, coax these stupid quills into moving along faster, sooth your stupid irritated skin and help them grow Warren. Rub each one, pull on them, make them stop hurting,’ They practically scream to him.  
“Dude, are you ok?”  
It’s Scott who breaks Warrens thoughts and conversation with his dumb wings, and he looks up to see everyone’s eyes on him.  
“Uh, yeah. Why?” He furrows his eyebrows. Don’t let them see it.  
'Show them Warren,’ his wings cry to him again before Scott answers. 'Show them so they can pity us and run their hands through the quills and itch them and relieve them, all those hands, all on us at once. Help us Warren, tell them, let them massage and coax those feathers into growing quicker,’  
Warren nearly pisses himself at the thought.  
“You’re bouncing your foot faster than Peter and gripping your wings…” He’s brought back once again by Scott’s worried voice.  
“Oh,” he turns to see each of his hands have a death grip on his wings where the quills are short, and he snorts as he let’s them go. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”  
But the team wouldn’t believe it that easily, and it’s Kurt who speaks up.  
“I vonce read that birds like it when you itch and massage their new feathers coming in!” He smiled those pointed fangs at him.  
Of fucking course.  
“Does that apply to you?” Ororo sits back to ask him and smiles.  
“No!” Warren scowls and shifts in his seat. “Of course not, I’m not a damn bird!” But tonight is not his night, and he must really be desperate if they can read him this well.  
“Come on! Do they itch? We won’t judge-” Ororo sticks her hand out and before Warren knows it she’s itching at that tight skin between the many quills and small vane.  
And Warren just fucking moans out.  
He stiffens and bends towards her, his bigger feathers standing on edge and he closes his eyes tight, opening his mouth a bit.  
“THEY DO! I KNEW IT!”  
He’s not sure who said it, because he’s too lost on the feeling of multiple hands itching their own spots on his giant, desperate wings. They giggle and joke to themselves, asking Warren, 'Where’s it the worst?’ And 'Does it feel good?’ To which he would all reply with a quiet moan and push his wing into the hand, earning a laugh from whoever it is.  
“This is so cool-’ Ororo would laugh at the sight of her team mate now sprawled out across their laps, drooling away on her pants.  
They would forget the movie and massage and itch and just dig away at Warren’s beginner feathers until each one has had its fair amount of being pulled and played with. And Warren would scream inside for them to stop it, he’s not this weak, he can itch his wings himself damn it! But oh, this just feels so GOOD, and why hadn’t he just let this happen sooner!?  
And let’s just say, that about a good two hours into this Disabling Warren Marathon, they look down to see Warren still biting his lip and arching his back into their now nearly numb fingers.  
"It was that bad?” Peter would ask and smirk, working on the primary bases which Warren is so thankful for, and the Angel nods.  
“Damn. Warren, you could have just told us,” Jean smiles as she says down to him.  
Warren would just simply hum, too content and overly stimulated into relaxation and pleasure to even consider forming words.  
“This is definitely a thing now,” Peter would say to his team mates,and as much as Warren wants to growl and say 'Don’t even think about it punk,’ he knows his wings have taken over and his body is theirs as they lean into the rough touches of his new friends.


End file.
